Flight to Ancestry
by fayremead
Summary: This follow-up to "The Odyssey of Flight 33" sends the airplane to a New York which is quite different from what the crew and passengers expected.
1. Third Time's the Charm

_All I ask of you is that you remain calm . . . and pray. _

Those words, just spoken by Captain Farver, echoed in First Officer Craig's mind as he brought the Boeing 707 closer to full speed. He steeled himself for the lightning flashes and violent turbulence of the time barrier.

When they came, his heart raced. This third time was every bit as hard as the earlier two and Craig dreaded that its shaking would not stop until the plane started to break..

Then, as the shaking and noise stopped, the sky turned black. Craig felt an icy shock as his heart seemed ready to either burst from his chest or leap up his throat. Someone — Hatch or Purcell — let out a split-second yell.

"Be calm," Farver said. "We returned to night. That was fifty-fifty all along."

Warm sweat washed over Craig. He noticed constellations: the tail end of Leo, all of Virgo, and hard over to port the claws and head of Scorpio with its fiery red "eye," Antares. Every star appeared to be where it should. Craig pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his forehead. He turned to Second Officer Wyatt, who was at the radio.

"This is Global 33 calling LaGuardia . . . Global 33 calling LaGuardia." He repeated himself for the better part of a minute, then tried other channels. Finally he shook his head.

"That doesn't rule out anything," Farver said, "except maybe a functional radio. We had wicked shaking. Let's turn easy to port and get a better view of the eastern sky."

Craig turned his neck. Hatch, Purcell and Wyatt left their seats and peered out the port-side window. Everyone in the cockpit was trained in celestial navigation . . . and hunting the two largest planets.

With bodies blocking the view, Craig had only a split-second glance, but it was enough.

Especially with the cheers.

The brighter planet, very steady and surpassing all stars, was Jupiter. Close by to the east, considerably fainter but just as steady, was Saturn. They were near each other just as Craig had last seen . . . well, pretty much. But planets were always moving against the stars, and besides, the human memory could be tricky — as an old lieutenant from the LAPD Homicide Division had told Craig during a stop in the City of Angels back in '57.

Purcell returned to his seat and ran his right hand over a gauge cluster. "We'll be on fumes in fifteen minutes."

"Plenty of time, if we're near," Farver said with his trademark calm tone. "We'll turn and descend."

Most of the clouds were to the west and north. As the 707 moved below their level, a cluster of lights became visible — perhaps 20 miles away, thought Craig, but unmistakably electric. There were other, much smaller points of light scattered around - ships' beacons.

A thundering cheer from the passenger section — the loudest noise from that area Craig had ever heard from beyond a closed cockpit door — brought grins to everyone in Craig's sight.

His nose detected a blend of smoke, sewage and manure, similar in some ways to the smoggy pollution he was used to but with a stronger pungency of horse.

Hatch looked at Jupiter and Saturn through binoculars. His grin disappeared. He returned to his desk, where navigator's tools were waiting.

Farver spoke into his mike. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain. Based on our observations of city lights and visible planets, we are satisfied that Global 33 has returned to the present day . . . maybe not the _same_ day, but close enough. We will make an emergency landing, and I ask our flight attendants to review appropriate procedures."

Craig looked at Hatch, who shook his head.


	2. Guests in Sagittarius

When Farver finished talking, Hatch spoke: "Skipper, guys, we're not in 1961."

"But those two planets . . . "

"Were . . . or will be . . . in Capricorn. Now they're in Sagittarius, right above the Milk Dipper."

Craig peered at the lights. "Magellan, you may be right"

The aircraft was already over land. The lights were dimmer and less extensive than what Craig remembered; this had caused him to overestimate the distance.

"I don't see any runway," Farver said. "No airport."

"Look at the skyline," Craig said. "No Empire State, no Chrysler, nothing as tall. No aircraft beacon. Magellan, what year do you think this is?"

"1901. Jupiter and Saturn are together in Earth's sky every twenty years. At s_ixty-_year intervals they're together in roughly the same part of the sky, but a bit farther east. We're seeing them farther_ west."_

Farver shook his head. "So we don't have to look for an airport."

Craig's stomach felt leaden. He said, "That's the _good_ news."


End file.
